


I have wings, so why do I feel so stuck to the ground like never before?

by ak47stylegirl



Category: DCU (Comics), Thunderbirds
Genre: Alan whump, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Superheroes, Thunderbirds 2004, thunderbirds/Dc crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ak47stylegirl/pseuds/ak47stylegirl
Summary: The thunderbirds/DC superhero au that been swimming around in my head for years. Alan is trying his best to survive the superhero life forced onto his shoulders, but when your wings feel like dead weight and your head is a battlefield, surviving was the hardest thing to do...
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

He sat on the edge of the building, his golden and red wings spread out behind him, the busy city so far below him. It was night time, the best time for patrolling but right now, he was just enjoying the view. 

His blue eyes scanned the sky, the light pollution from the city not hindering his star glazing at all. _That was one of the perks of having heightened senses after all, his eye slight was like a hark, he could see things in detail miles away._

 _Though heightened senses weren’t all good,_ he thought with a grimace, rubbing his ear as he heard a couple a few levels down from him start arguing and screaming at each other. _It was like they started yelling right into to his ear…_

He shook his head, tuning out all the unnecessary sounds until everything was quiet. He sighed wearily, running his hand through his blond hair, making it even messier and more wind-blowed then it already was. _Maybe he should get back to patrolling instead of waiting for…_

_What was he waiting for, exactly? Why did he sit here every night, waiting for something he couldn’t reach, even if he flew the highest he could go, it wouldn’t be enough._

_He knew why he was sitting here, he knew he was waiting for that little dot to appear in the sky, to pass him by. He knew he was waiting for Thunderbird five to pass through the sky, his big brother up there looking down at him, not knowing at his missing little brother was looking up at him._

_Why was he doing this to himself? Why couldn’t he move on? It has been years since he seen his family, years since he was taken, years since his DNA was torn in two, years since he was made into a-_

He shook himself out of those thoughts with a gasp, gripping the edge of the building. His grip was so strong that where his hand was, the stone had cracked and crumbled, leaving a small hole where his hand had been. He stared at the dust on his hand, _his inhuman strength truly did scare him sometimes…_

_But strength could be controlled, it was his instincts that scared him, instincts that had him carrying and hiding throwing daggers on his person, instincts that he leaned hard on to keep him and his teammates alive. Instincts he had to push down and suppress…_

He frowned, letting himself fall backward on to his back, his wings stretched out to either side of him, looking up at the night sky. _He couldn’t escape the fact that he had been an assassin, a brainwashed/mind-controlled assassin yes but an assassin nonetheless. He would always have those instincts._

_And he hated that._

_So maybe the question wasn’t ‘why couldn’t he move on?’ and more, ‘why didn’t he go running back to his family the second the league of assassins control over him was broken?’_

_It had only been a year since Miss Martian broke the brain control, bring back half of his memories (He had half of himself torn from him, the memories he had now were all he had left) and in turn, his self-awareness. The two versions of himself, the young teen that couldn’t wait to be a thunderbird and the assassin that he had been made into, merged all at once; making him._

_A half-alien, half-human hybrid teen who didn’t age at the same rate as everybody else because alien DNA and who seems to be constantly stuck in an identity crisis._

_The first memory that he could call his own was filled with sheer terror and disgust at himself, at what he been made into. Sure, his teammates had accepted him, they had saved him after all. The rest of the superhero community coming slowly soon after._

_They didn’t blame him for the things he had been forced to do, but he couldn’t stop blaming himself, hating himself. Because he didn’t care if he was mind-controlled or not, that blood was still on his hands. So maybe that was why he kept himself away from his family, even though the longer he’s apart from them, the more painful it gets._

_Because he’s scared, terrified, that they will see it the same way. It would kill him if his family, the whole reason he keeps getting up in the morning, hated him. So he rather live with this overwhelming pain, then to see the hatred in their eyes._

The tension in his shoulders lessened as he spotted a little dot passing through the sky, a small, tired smile appearing on his face as he let himself drift back to simpler times.

“Hey, John…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy :3

It was busy in the downtown diner, the Tv playing the news in the corner and general chatter from people eating their dinner made it a very loud place. _And it so happened that it was his shift, so yes he was very much getting a headache from the sheer noise,_ he thought grimacing slightly as he wiped a table down. 

_But it couldn’t be helped, he needed the money this job gave him to live, so he just had to deal with it;_ _it was fine._ His wings were hidden under a glamour charm, making it seem like they weren’t there at all. 

_But they very much were,_ he thought tensing up slightly as he barely missed hitting a customer with his invisible wings.It would be so much easier if he could always keep them flat against his back but he used them for _balance_ , so they moved without him even realising it sometimes. 

_Which was really dangerous for him,_ he thought with a sigh, carrying a tray full of dirty cups and plates to the kitchen. He was just coming out of the kitchen when he heard it-

_**‘Tracy’** _

And all his senses went on hyperdrive, preparing to get him out of there at a moments notice without anyone being the wiser. His eyes scanned the room but he didn’t see any of his brothers, which caused the alarms in his head to quiet down a bit. 

_It had just been the TV,_ he thought with a slight sigh of relief as he made his way behind the counter/bar. _He hated how scared he was at the mare idea of being spotted by one of his brothers or someone that knew him from before. He hated that one of his first reactions was to run as far away as he could, he hated it!_

_Even in the mask, and when international rescue and himself are in the same place; trying to do the same thing, save lives, he still feels uneasy being around them. He tries not to talk much or look at them for long in case they recognise him and well, if he looks or spends too much time with them; he knows he would not be able to stop himself from revealing all._

He shook his head, burying those thoughts deep within his mind. _He did not need to go down that rabbit hole, get a hold of yourself Phoenix,_ he thought as he started to clean a couple of the cocktail glasses at the small sink behind the bar. 

_But why exactly were the news talking about his fam-_

He stilled, his face going pale as he read the headline. _**‘Anniversary of youngest Tracy’s disappearance’**_

_Oh…Oh,_ he swallowed, turning his face down to look at the bubbly water of the sink. _It was that day…_

_**‘Ten years ago to this day, Alan Tracy, son of billionaire astronaut Jeff Tracy, disappeared from his school, Wharton Academy, where he shared a dorm with his best friend, Fermat Hackenbacker, late one night. No one knows what exactly happened to the youngest Tracy-’** _

_Except him,_ he thought with a frown, tuning out the rest of the news report as he tried to keep the memories at bay. _He didn’t need to hear anymore._

“You know, it’s weird…” His work colleague, Frank muttered, starring up at the TV with a perplexed look. _The news was still talking about his disappearance.._.

“What is?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, welcoming the distraction from his thoughts and memories. 

Frank frowned at him, “The fact that you look almost exactly like that Tracy kid-” 

He felt his eyes widen slightly as glanced at the TV where a photo of his past self was still front and centre; he was smiling, eyes bright with an innocent he no longer possessed. There were some differences between him and, well his past self. 

For one their hair was slightly different, his hair was more platinum blond, not the dirty brown blond it used to be. The merging of his DNA with an alien’s DNA hadn’t just given him wings, his whole physiology was different. Hence his hair being lighter. 

While on the topic, his hair was also more styled, up and out of his eyes then his part self, who had it more messily ruffled. He was sure there was four older brothers that could lay claim to creating that hairstyle. 

But other than the slight hair different, and his face being slightly more defined and less baby fat, their faces looked near identical. Though he knew he was a lot thinner and more toned with subtle muscles than his past self, his body used to fighting and bending in ways that really shouldn’t be possible. 

_(He wasn’t going to think about the scars, he wasn’t going to think about the scars, he wasn’t going to think about the scars!)_

“-you even have the same name..” Frank ended, looking at him suspiciously. He quickly switched gears, and prepared to get himself out of this situation. _Good thing he was a good liar, he knew how to act to get people off his tail._

He faked a laugh, grinning at his colleague. “I do? That so Cool!” He grinned with excitement, making his eyes wide and innocent as he continued to work. “I always wanted a celebrity twin!”

“uh…” Frank blinked, visibly confused by his reaction, which was what he wanted. “But, ur isn’t it, I don’t know? Weird that you look exactly the same and share the same name?”

Frank was still giving him that suspicious look but he looked more unsure now. 

“What?” He raised an eyebrow, letting a bit of disbelief and confusion show on his face “You don’t think I’m actually Alan Tracy, do you?” He asked with a laugh, letting frank think that he was laughing at the sheer silliness of such a thing. 

“Do I look 25 to you?” He laughed, laying his hand against his chest, making a show of raising his eyebrows in disbelief, letting a bit of mild offence colour his voice. “because um, ouch, that hurts..” 

_He knew he looked young, because physically and to an extent mentally, he was still a teenager of sixteen years. Partly because of his alien DNA and because the league of assassins figured that freezing their weapon in suspended animation while not in use was a good idea._

Frank laughed nervously, trying to save himself from embarrassment. “Haha, yeah, what was I thinking? You look more like you should be in diapers then anywhere near legal age, kid..” 

He gasped dramatically, scrunching his nose up, “well, that’s almost worse!” he pouted as he finished cleaning the glasses. 

“ha, yeah…” Frank laughed slightly, a slight flush on his cheeks as he walked away to serve a customer. He felt his wings, which had been tensely held tight against his back, relax. 

_That had been…unpleasant, normally he didn’t have to deal with stuff like that as people automatically dismissed him on the accent of him being too young, but Frank always been one to jump to conclusions without thinking if it was possible or not, so he really wasn’t surprised._

He hanged his apron up and clocked out, heading out of the busy diner and into the chilly night air; the _‘Tracy Industries’_ sign on his family’s building glowing in the distance.

_A part of him just wanted to be put out of his misery, he wanted to face them and just get their rejection over with because they didn’t want him, they want a version of him that didn’t exist anymore and he couldn’t give that to them._

_But a bigger part of him was just too scared, too terrified to face them, to face the truth. Even though he knew it was killing him, would kill him one day, he could not bring himself to face them._

_Some brave Tracy he sure was,_ he thought with a scowl, lowing his face, unable to face the light of his family’s sign. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be honest, I was a bit scared to write the DC characters because I don’t really know them very well, so hopefully, they turned out alright and not too OOC 😅 (I’m not really working from a certain DC canon, I’m just mixing and matching things that I know from Tv shows/movies/the odd comic I read, into a sort of DC/Thunderbirds world 😅)   
> I hope you enjoy! XD

The wind was blowing strong today, he thought with a content smile, his eyes closed, letting the wind ruffle his feathers. He was standing on top of one of the tallest buildings in the city, in full uniform; mask and all. 

His suit covered his whole body; the only places it didn’t cover was the base of his wings and his head. It was a mix of brown and burgundy, matching his wings which were a mix of gold, mixes of red, ranging from bright red to burgundy. His wings were double the length of his arms when stretched out, and very powerful. 

His suit was equipped with a thin protective layer of armour, as well as a small utility belt, and multiple hidden compartments where he hid all sorts of things. (mostly throwing knives or daggers, but there were other things in them as well of course.)

He had a pair of dual swords strapped to his thighs, which he could pull out at a moments notice. Last but not least, and maybe the most important part of his uniform, was his mask. It was a similar colour to his suit, covering the top part of his face. It was modelled to look like a bird of prey, a couple of his smallest feathers adorning it on either side. 

He leapt from the building, letting himself fall for a couple of seconds before soaring into the sky, dancing around buildings. He dived up above the buildings and into the open sky, breaking through the clouds with a laugh; feeling the dampness from the clouds on his cheeks. 

He flipped and turned, doing acrobatics between the clouds, the bright blue sky in the background cheering him on, the sun making the gold in his wings shine. He grinned as he flew past and around a couple of birds, who looked quite terribly confused by this half-bird, half-human creature flying next to them. 

He dived down, plummeting through the clouds. He closed his eyes and brought his wings close to his body, letting himself freefall. He cheered in delight, enjoying how the wind batted at his cheek, before snapping his wings open just as he was about to hit the ocean, stopping his descent. 

He zoomed across the ocean, the water parting on either side of him. The coastline of the city came into view, and to the far right of the city was a small island with a single building on top. 

He pulled up into the air, gaining altitude and headed straight for that island and the building on it. He positioned his legs in front of him as he came into land, his wings acting as windbreaks, slowing him down as his feet hit the ground with speed. 

He stumbled slightly but caught himself, turning that would be fall into a step; striving forward towards the front door. There was a camera sitting above the door which narrowed on him as he approached.

A bright yellow beam came out of it, scanning him from his head to his toes before flashing green.

‘Recognise, Tb03, Phoenix' 

The door slid open, and he walked in, heading downstairs to the training room and slipped in unnoticed by most of the other people in the room. Though he was pretty sure Red Robin and Nightwing noticed his appearance; even though one of them was sparring at the moment. 

And why was he sneaking into the training room unnoticed? Because the reactions to him suddenly appearing were the best, he thought with a smirk as he quietly came to stand next to Beast Boy, watching Nightwing’s and Aqualad’s sparring match. 

Impulse whispered loudly to Beast Boy. “Who do you think going to win?" 

"My money’s on Nightwing; he’s a bat!” Beast Boy exclaimed, gesturing with both his hands at the fight in front of them. “Of course, he’s going to win!" 

"urh, Aqualad is an Atlantean..” Blue Beetle added in, his arms crossed against his chest. “He obviously has the advantage, so I think Aqualad is going to win…”

“How can you say that?” Beast Boy gasped, looking at Blue Beetle like he stomped on his most beloved possession in front of him. “Nightwing is a bat! That’s a pretty big advantage!” Beast Boy crossed his arms. “isn’t that right Red?”

Red Robin glanced up from his wrist computer with an unimported look, said nothing and turned back to his computer. Beast boy blink for a second, before diving right into an argument with Blue Beetle, going on about why Nightwing would win and why Aqualad wouldn’t.

Beast Boy oddly reminded him of his brother Gordon, but younger, green and hairy or well furry as Beast Boy would say. Those two would get along like two peas in a pod; he thought with a small bittersweet smile as he took in the training fight in front of him. 

Both Nightwing and Aqualad were equally matched, keeping up with the other easily. Seeing as this was a training fight, neither was going fully all the way to take the other out. It was most likely to end in a tie then either of them winning.

“I don’t think either will win…” He spoke for the first time since entering the room, leaning back on his left foot, his arms crossed with a nonchalant look on his face. “They’re both too evenly matched, it’s most likely going to end in a tie than a solid win…”

“AH!” Beast boy startled and jumped back in surprised, turning into a startled hissing cat for a second before turning back into himself. “Don’t do that, dude! When did you get here?!" 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Red Robin snicker. He tilted his head, "I been here for ages, didn’t you notice?” He grinned lightly, his wings shifting behind him in his amusement. 

Blue Beetle started laughing silently to himself. Wonder Girl shook her head, a small smile on her face. 

“Yeah, he been there for a couple of minutes now, hasn’t he?” Impulse added, looking confused at Beast Boy before grinning at him. “Hey, Phoenix!”

“Hey..” He waved casually, grinning. 

Beast Boy’s cheek were flushed pink and was now half-heartedly glaring at him, “I hate you, you know that?" 

"Sure, sure whatever you say…” He chuckled, trying not to seem bothered by what Beast Boy had just said. (It was just a joke, it was just a joke, it was just a joke!) 

In the time he has been talking with Beast Boy, Nightwing and Aqualad had finished their sparring match; calling it a tie. “Good, Phoenix, you’re here..” Nightwing smiled, before crossing his arms and getting stern. “What took you so long? Training started half an hour ago.”

“I must have lost track of time; the wind was really perfect for flying today, you know?” He shrugged as he grinned up at Nightwing, not even slightly bothered that 'The Nightwing’ was frowning at him, he grew up with Scott Tracy as his big brother, he has seen worst looks. “I couldn’t help myself, honest…" 

Nightwing’s eyebrows pinched together for a moment as he regarded him, before sighing and turning to the rest of the people in the room. "Alright sparring partners, Beast Boy, you’re with Impulse-”

Beast Boy and Impulse grinned at each other.

“-Blue Beetle, you’re with Aqualad-”

Blue and Aqualad nodded at each other.

“Wonder Girl, you’re training with Miss Martian-" 

The two girls smiled at each other. 

”-And Phoenix, you’re going to be training with Red Robin and Me.“ Nightwing finished, his hands on his hips, pleased with his choices. 

Beast Boy laughed, "Ooooh, should have arrived on time, dude..” Beast Boy teased, lightly hitting his shoulder before running over to join his sparring partner on one of the sparring arenas. 

He rolled his eyes. The truth was more likely that, no matter how much he wanted to forget, he was a highly trained assassin and so It just made sense that Nightwing would make it a bit more challenging for him. 

He stepped into the arena with Nightwing and Red Robin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, stop and read this before you read the chapter! Self-harm and suicidal thoughts are present in this fic, so if you know you’re going to be triggered by that, please don’t read or read with caution. I don’t want anyone to be triggered by this fic, I want it to be an enjoyable read, so you have been warned *hugs*   
> I hope you enjoy! :D

He was walking along the hallways of Wharton Academy, laughing and chatting with Fermat as they made their way to their next class. He had no wings or deep depressing past. Everything was bright and hopeful, after this school year, he and Fermat were going to be home school, so they could train to be fulltime Thunderbirds. 

“You should have seen his face, Fermat!” He laughed, retelling an event that had happened in his maths class earlier this morning, which Fermat had missed because he was in the bathroom when it happened. “He was gasping like a fish! It was like he wasn’t excepting me to know the answer!” 

“W-Well, you don’t have the b-best reputation when it comes to p-paying attention in class, A-Alan..” Fermat stuttered, his book bag hanging off his shoulder. 

“I know, I know Ferm..” He sighed, remembering all the times his father had called him into his office to yell at him about either his grades or about a phone call from the school about how he hasn’t been paying attention in class. 

_If it wasn’t one, it was the other._

“It’s not like I don’t try-” He stopped short, realising he was suddenly alone, the hallway deserted. “Fermat?” He called out, his voice echoing back at him. He turned around, looking if he could see his best friend or anyone really. “Fermat? Where are you?” 

He swallowed, feeling a shiver of fear run up his spine. “come on; this isn’t funny!” His voice shook as he started to look around more frantically. The hallway disappeared around him, leaving him in a dark vacant plane with no end in sight. Before he could genuinely start panicking, he spotted his brothers in the distance. 

“Guys!” He gasped in relief, running towards them. But just as he nearly reached them, just before he could dive into the safety of their arms, he was stopped by a blade pointed right at his chest. 

He gasped in horror, and, for the first time since all this weird stuff started happening, terror, at the person standing in front of him. They were wearing all black; their face covered entirely except for the eyes. 

_Lifeless blue eyes, dulled and grey._ They were staring at him. 

And maybe the worst thing, the thing that filled him with a fear so big it caused him to shake, were the two huge wings sticking out of the guy’s back. _He knew with every fibre of his bring who was standing in front of him;_ he thought as his look of fright changed into a look of loathing. 

“You…”

He looked down at the blade pointed at his chest and felt the urge to start laughing, but not in happiness but in sheer anger. “What’s stopping you? Run me through..” He growled, his eyes alight with a fury he couldn’t control. “Do one good thing and end this..” 

His past self, his mind controlled, killing machine, assassin self, didn’t more or even blink. He just kept starring at him, his blade staying immaculately still, _teasing_ him. 

He felt tears building up in his eyes as he screamed, “Why won’t you do it!? It’s not like it be the first time you killed someone!” He exclaimed bitterly, balling his fists. “This time it would actually be doing the world a favour, so just kill me already!” 

He grabbed the blade and plunged it through his chest. 

**—**

He woke up in a cold sweat, launching upright; his wings knocking over his bedside lamp. He grasps at his chest, slumping forward against his knees as he felt no wound. _It was just a dream…_

_It was just a dream,_ he thought with a strangled gasp, running his hand through his sweat-filled hair. His cheeks were wet.

He took in his apartment around him, shivering from the cold wind that was blowing in from the hole in his window. He was only wearing a singlet and shorts. _(He never wore a singlet in public)_

His apartment was still the same small, dingy apartment it always was, which was only two rooms; his bedroom and the bathroom. The space wasn’t even slightly big enough for him to stretch his wings out comfortably. His bed was missing a leg and was propped up by a couple of thick books, the wallpaper was peeling, and the hot water didn’t work. 

He grimaced, spotting the smashed bedside lamp on the floor. He stood up, avoiding the broken light and headed into his bathroom. He turned the tap on, and just stood there was a minute, starring at the running water; letting the sink support him. 

His hands were trembling, his whole body was trembling and his cheeks…his cheeks were still wet. He made a sound between a whimper and a sob, trying to get himself under control. 

_It was just a dream; it was just a-_

Dead blue eyes stared back at him. 

“AHgh!” He yelped, jumping backwards in surprise, falling hard against the shower door. _For a second, could have sworn he saw his nightmare self in the mirror. Those dead eyes…_

He gasped, feeling like there was a hand around his throat, cutting off his air supply. _It wasn’t real;_ he thought squeezing his eyes shut tightly as tears streamed down his cheeks. _You’re not him; it wasn’t real, you’re not him!_

_It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, Alan!_ He yelled at himself, blinking his eyes open, feeling weak and queasy, drenched in a cold sweat. _You’re not him…Not anymore._

The reflection in the mirror that stared back at him was nothing like the one he had briefly seen. _But It didn’t reassure him like he thought it would,_ he thought feeling himself start to shake. _He was bleached white, cold sweat visibly sitting on his brow and his eyes._

_His eyes were filled with immeasurable pain, tears leaking out of them like a mighty flood and-_

_And all his scars were on display. Except-_

He sobbed, his legs starting to wobble beneath him. 

_Gordon would be so disappointed to know that he no longer held the record for the most scars in family,_ he thought with a sob, unable to look away. _He has surpassed his brother in that aspect, something he was sure Gordon would have never wanted him to surpass._

But it wasn’t the scars he could see that were bothering him; it was the ones he couldn’t…

It was the scars and fresh cuts on both of his forearms, hidden under bandages that caused him the most grief and shame. _The reason he could never wear anything but full-length sleeves…_

He slowly slid down to the bath floor with a sob, his legs giving way. He starred at his forearms for a second, before unravelling the bandages around his wrists, revealing rows of straight thin cuts. 

_Some were a couple of months old, and others; others were done just yesterday…_

He ran his finger down them in almost fascination. The fresher cuts stung slightly, which made him want to run his finger down them again, but this time harder and with more force, so he’ll feel a lot more than a _slight_ sting.

And when that wasn’t enough, he put his whole palm on them and pressed down hard; hissing in pain as the cuts screamed at him to stop. But he didn’t, he liked the feeling, this little bit of control. _It felt good._

_But…but pressing on old cuts wasn’t enough for him, he needed to feel the pain more,_ he thought as he stood up in an almost trance, opening the bathroom cabinet and grabbing the dagger he stored in there. 

He brought his arm up and rested the blade against his skin. The water was still running, but he could barely hear it over his own heartbeat as he slowly moved the dagger across his wrist. He hissed in pain, watching as the blood seeped out of the wound and dropped into the sink; mixing with the moving water.

He placed the dagger next to the cut he just made and pulled it across again, and again. _He didn’t care if it hurt, he deserved it and…and it felt good!_ He sobbed, his left arm now covered in blood. 

He frowned, staring down at his arm. _Why is he cutting himself when he could just end it?_ He wondered, staring down at the dagger in his hands. _He knew how to end a life quickly, why doesn’t he use that knowledge to…to just end this pain?_

_It would be so easy, so simple;_ he thought bring the dagger to his neck, his eyes glazed over. _No one would care, not really; they would just move on. The world would be so better off without the danger of him in it…_

He looked at his reflection, dagger to his throat, and he closed his eyes. _Just one stroke and the pain will be gone; it will all be gone-_

His big brothers’ grief-stricken face flashed through his mind like ice water.

He gasped, his eyes snapping open as he violently threw the dagger away from him, collapsing to his feet; gasping for breath. 

_No-no-no-no-no-no!_ He shook his head, crawling back as far as he could, his eyes wide with horror at what he almost did. _You do not get the easy way out, phoenix!_

He wrapped his arms around his knees, renewed sobs busting out of his still beating chest. _You can’t do that, not…not to-_

His brothers’ faces flashed through his minds again, causing him to sob loudly. 

_-Not to them, never to them…_

_You got to stay strong, somehow…_ he thought as he buried his head in his knees, his wings shaking and bouncing from his sobs. _Even with it hurting so bad, you-you have to keep going…_

_Somehow…_

_For them…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this and hopefully this snippet it’s a bit less depressing than the last one lol 😅

He was slumped against the side of the sofa in the common room of the tower, feeling all sorts of exhausted. His wings were ruffled and dirty, his suit was not much better; ripped in multiple of places. 

_He was sure he was going to spend the foreseeable future sewing those up,_ he thought with a yawn, covering his mouth with his hand. And the thing that brought the whole exhausted look together were the bandages hastily wrapped around cuts. 

_He just didn’t have the energy to deal with them right now._ And he knew that if Virgil knew, he would be despairing at the fact he hasn’t treated his wounds yet _but he was tired..._

The bandages were enough for now and, anyway, his body healed a lot faster than normal, a result of his mixed DNA. _They could wait for a bit..._

Along with the healing faster, his whole metabolism was just generally faster, meaning that a whole range of medications just didn’t work for him. 

It was truly a bit scary how much he didn’t know about his own body, he didn’t know how his body worked or how it would react to things. There was a whole other part of him, a foreign alien part that he just didn’t understand. 

The same sentiment was shared with all the unlucky medical professionals that had to treat him. Most of the stuff he knows about his body, he learnt from first-hand experiences. 

He has broken his bones enough times to figure out that they were hollow inside, but somehow still crazy strong and able to withstand lots of force. _(Him being able to fly still outright broke physics, but he has long ago given up trying to figure it out)_

He knew he could still get sick from normal germs, because he experienced it, and found out in the process that his alien-half was both a blessing and a curse. 

On one hand, he recovered slightly faster because of his alien DNA, but on the other, his heightened senses, which he got from his alien side, made the whole experience one thousand times worse!

_Saying it was not fun, would be an understatement of the century._

The fast metabolism thing also meant he had to eat more, not as much as a speeder but definitely more than a human. And on an hourly wage like his, that was a hard challenge to fulfil. 

He normally went feeling slightly hungry most of the time, _it wasn’t that bad, he gotten used to it._

_He wasn’t the only one looking or feeling exhausted,_ he thought as he looked around the room with tired eyes. Beast Boy was spread out on the sofa, starring blankly up at the ceiling, half-asleep; his uniform dirty and torn in places as well. 

Impulse was sitting in front of the sofa, his head tilted back against the sofa as he snored, sound asleep and covered in mud. Even Red Robin looked tired, his cape discarded next to him as sat cross-legged on the floor; his computer sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

There had been a mass breakout at a local prison and so they been out most of the night rounding up them up. They had just gotten back a little while ago and so were dead tired from a night of no sleep. All the others had disappeared to other parts of the tower to recuperate a while ago, leaving just the four of them now. 

He yawned again, dropping his head back against the sofa; blinking tiredly. Red Robin glanced over at him. “Tired?” Red Robin questioned. 

He smiled softly, “as if you ain’t?” 

Red Robin rolled his eyes, a small fond smile on his lips. “Nah, chasing down bunches of criminals in the night is my usual..” Despite saying this, a second later Red Robin yawned.

He smirked. 

Red Robin glared at him, “Don’t. Say. A. Word...” 

He grinned at Red Robin, tilting his head to the side with an innocent look. “Say what?” He questioned cheekily, leaning forward and resting his chin on his palm. 

Red Robin just glared harder, before grinning, and picking up his discarded cape and throwing it at him, hitting square in the face. He yelped as he got a face full of muddy cape, falling backward as he battered the muddy fabric away, his wings flailing about. 

Red Robin started laughing. 

And before long, he followed suit, a warm feeling in his chest. 

He didn’t know how he did it, especially with Batman seeming to not like him, for obvious ‘former assassin’ shaped reasons, but somehow...Somehow he has become friends with Red Robin and Nightwing. 

Other than Miss Martian, Nightwing and Red Robin were the closest he has ever gotten with anyone in the superhero world. He guessed that closeness was most present in the fact he knew their secret identities, and they knew his past and who his family was. 

He had figured it out on his own, _(A fact he was sure Batman probably hated. Also, Tracy Industries was better than Wayne Enterprises!)_ The same way they had figured out who his family was. 

Nobody else knew he was a Tracy or that his family was international rescue; he sure didn’t feel comfortable sharing such a personal fact with anybody else. Especially the international rescue part, he was not going to betray his family’s trust by revealing that secret to anybody. 

Red Robin, he got along really well with. They have been known to work on cases together, and just being...well good friends. 

And as for Nightwing... 

Honestly the guy sort of taken him under his wing in a sense, seeing that he needed some kind of guiding figure. _(Though there was only so far he’ll let Nightwing go in that aspect, he already had four big brothers and that was enough for him...)_

Though he has a feeling Nightwing has an ultimate motive for doing that, because didn’t his big brother Scott go to college with someone with the last name Grayson? 

At the end of the day, it just felt good to know that there were people in the superhero community that he could rely on, that knew his whole past and despite his mind constantly telling him otherwise, did care about him...

It didn’t fix the gaping hole in his chest where his brothers belonged and were missing, but...

_But...It just felt good anyhow..._


End file.
